Begin Again
by Hobster
Summary: Castiel has never done this before. No one angel has really ever tried to create something. Castiel/Sam


Set just nearly after 5x22, but before you see Dean drive up to Lisa's.

I've no idea what came over me, but here is this. Born out of sleep deprivation and pure stress. Please read and enjoy.

Wordcount: 1,639  
>Pairing: CastielSam  
>Warning: here there be slashly smexings and a bit of the Christian religion, mostly the creation aspects of it all.<p>

_Don't hate on me. :(_

Disclaimer: Not affiliated with the CW in any way.

Okay, seriously. What genres does this fall into? It's not really romance at all.. IDEK._  
><em>

* * *

><p>Castiel has never done this before. No one angel has really ever tried to create something.<p>

But he really can't just leave Dean to be without his brother. That's not a good thing to do. He cares for the Winchesters.

He doesn't have much time or the power to go down into hell and retrieve Sam's body and soul from the Pit. Not much time because the farther down he goes, the more time passes and he fears Dean might do something drastic. Not much power because he was only just recreated. Lucifer had destroyed every single bit of himself, but God had put him back together. His Father had raised him to life again.

He was special because of that. That's why he's doing this now.

It says in the Word of his Father that He likened man unto His own image. Well, Castiel hasn't seen his Father at all, ever, but he's got a picture perfect memory of Sam Winchester in his mind, so he's got that covered.

It also says that He created man from the dust of the ground. It doesn't take long to create a mound of dirt.

Castiel has never created another living being. It's supposed to be Nature's job, but it's important that Sam is either remade or brought up from Hell. And Castiel just doesn't want to go back down into the Pit. It hurts to be down there. It's burning and scratching and tearing and clawing. It's horrible and this way is so much easier.

Besides, he's special. He was risen by his Father. It makes him important. Logically, he can do this. This one thing for the good of the world. Later, he'll go down and retrieve the actual Sam's body and soul and mind. If there is anything left, of course. His body could be shreds and bits of flesh the longer he stays down there. Maybe he'll only go down for his mind. The mind is the one thing that shouldn't ever be broken. It is a strong thing. The very essence of a human being is their soul and mind. Their outward appearance changes all the time. Outside doesn't make them who they are.

_Beauty is only skin deep._

_It's the inside that counts._

_You don't have a soul. You are a soul; you have a body._

_You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you can never imprison my mind._

The list runs on. These human sayings only fuel the fire. Castiel knows what he is doing. He knows that it is right.

He will do this for Dean and then go retrieve Sam's mind; his soul and body will be too far gone. Too destroyed and burdened to carry by the time he can get there.

Water, 35 liters. Carbon, 20 kilograms. Ammonia, 4 liters. Lime, 1.5 kilograms. Phosphorous, 800 grams. Salt, 250 grams. Saltpeter, 100 grams. Sulfur, 80 grams. Fluorine, 7.5, iron, 5, silicon, 3 grams, and trace amounts of 15 other elements.

That is the list of things he must create. The things he must have in order to have a human body.

He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.

Later, when all is said and done, a perfect replica of Sam's body is lying on the ground, naked but not alive. It has taken three hours, twenty-six minutes, and thirteen seconds for it all to come together. It wasn't really as hard as it seemed.

Castiel came upon a few minor setbacks, if only because he couldn't remember the atomic number for flourine. (It's 9. It's atomic mass is 18.998404 amu..) He got over all of his problems though.

Before him lays a replica of Sam Winchester. He's not alive yet though.

He stands over his creation wondering how to get his heart pumping. He doesn't have a soul. He must need his mind in order to work. He disappears into hell without a second thought.

With Lucifer back in the cage, it is total chaos. Burning, screaming, gnashing chaos. It all quiets the moment he is noticed. Nothing harms him. Nothing even speaks to him.

Good, Castiel thinks, they shouldn't get to look upon his Grace and Glory at all, scum that they are. They are not worthy.

He reaches the blackened cage of his fallen brother Lucifer without any disturbances. As he thought, Sam's body is unusable. His soul even more so. It's dirty and ugly. Not quite destroyed yet though. Theoretically, if he brought him up now, nothing would be too terribly wrong. In Hell's time, he's only been here thirty years. Less than his brother. And his brother is fine.

But seeing it up close, mangled and torn, Castiel feels his entire being shy away in disgust. It is so dirty and disgusting. He makes his mind up then not to touch it. He only came down for Sam's pure-so pure-mind anyway. He reaches out and stores the great big thinking mind of Sam, half his essence, into his coat pocket, safe and secure.

He will not take his soul. Castiel is too worthy and great to touch it. He will raise Sam Winchester from perdition, but not all of him. This new Sam will be better.

He flies out without a second thought, leaving the soul and body of little Sammy Winchester crying out for help from the only thing that looked like hope. Castiel ignores the cries.

When he arrives back to where he left his creation, it is nearly three o clock in the morning. It's dark and a little windy. He is still in the graveyard which gives him a little light as there is a lamp post flickering on and off above him twenty feet away. He thinks it is fitting that new life is to be raised here in a resting place for the dead. Quite fitting.

He places the mind from his pocket, glowing and wispy orange leaking through his fingers, into the body laid out before him. He waits just one second before huffing in annoyance. What is he doing wrong? Why is his creation not living, breathing?

It clicks.

Oh.

The breath of life is required.

Castiel bends to the ground, careful not to actually touch it as it would get his trousers dirty. He's crouching at an odd angle and his back and neck are sort of straining, but it's alright.

He presses his lips to the cold ones of the body before him and breathes into it. New Sam's eyes flutter open and he takes his own breath for the very first time.

Instead of moving away like the angel expected him to do, it is like he is sweet like honey and addicting like a human narcotic. His Sam reaches up an arm and wraps it around Castiel's neck. He loses his balance and falls, but Sam has sat up and Castiel is in his lap.

Their lips connect again and Sam's tongue swipes at his teeth, probing deeper. Castiel meets it with his own and pushes back. The break for just a second. The small second is all Castiel needs to realize that this is nice and he enjoys it. They kiss again, this time Castiel nibbles a little at Sam's bottom lip.

New Sam pulls away and uses both hands to push away the angel's clothing. His shirt is pushed down and apart so his torso is bared, but the tie still hangs from his neck and his shirt is still dangling from his arms.

Castiel sits there, in the aroused lap of His Very Own Creation, his head lolled to the side as New Sam bites and licks his way down his pale, neck. When he reaches the tie that is looped there, he turns their heads together, grabs it and pulls, so their lips meet again. It's not very soft and gentle. It's not rough and passionate. It's just rough. And primal. Can't forget those instincts!

Castiel finally uses his own hand to grip the erection that he's sitting before. They're still kissing, but New Sam grunts and very nearly whines when Castiel's grip turns to stroking and pulling. He runs his thumb over the leaking head and this time, New Sam really does whine. A low moan comes from his own throat and Castiel realizes this is making him just a little bit hot under the collar as well-if he had a collar, that is.

Sam bites and scratches at Castiel's chest. The new man rolling his tongue around a hardened nipple and brushing along Castiel's abdomen with his hand. It feels nice and hot. Blood rushes everywhere and it just feels good.

Their kisses become heavy and desperate the more time passes. It's only been a few minutes since New Sam had come into existence, but already he is feeling the joys of lust and sex. Castiel figures it's as human as he's ever going to get.

They thrust against each other. Castiel's pants are open and his own erection is rubbing against New Sam's own as he sits there on the man's thighs. He moans out, low and rasping, a name he can't be bothered to think about right now.

Castiel bites down hard on the junction of Sam's shoulder and neck when they come together. It's sticky and milky white, so Castiel doesn't bother with it. Just snaps his fingers and they're all clean. Clean and all dressed. New Sam too.

The angel of the Lord stands, brushes off his pants even though there is nothing on them anymore and gazes down at his very own Creation. Yes, this will do nicely. Dean will thank him. This is for Dean. The human he cares about.

This is good. He's created something good.

"You are good, Sam Winchester."

* * *

><p>The three verses that Castiel references are as follows, in order: Genesis 1:27, Genesis 2:7, and (the breath of life is also from..) Genesis 2:7. All from The Bible<br>(And I sorta kinda alluded to Genesis 1:31. Let's see if anyone catches it cause I think I was pretty smart with it. _Ha ha ha~_)

"Beauty is only skin deep" -Sir Thomas Overbury  
>"It's the inside that counts" -Unknown (to me, anyway.)<br>"You don't have a soul. You have a body; You are a soul." -C.S. Lewis  
>"You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind." -Mahatma Ghandi<p>

* * *

><p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.<p> 


End file.
